Happy Semiquincentennial, ‘Merica – We Survived!

The country marked it’s 250th year in grand style – though it was a Fractured Fourth for some to be sure.

And, despite some setbacks sent courtesy of Ma Nature, a few cases of OverBloviation and Mish-mashed History, we seem to have come out the other side, some in county lockup, some really, really hungover and the blessedly unscathed left to ponder what the next 250 years will bring.

We didn’t expect much. Grab Sarge’s funeral flag, cry at the anthem as usual, watch the fireworks guys paint the sky for a while and then back home to return the flag to its case and remember another Fourth from so many years ago, mum in her dress, Sarge still paratrooper-trim in his white t-shirt, cigar in his mouth, setting off street candles while us kids oohed and ahhed.

It was Mission Accomplished as far as our Fourth went, though we know others weren’t as lucky. A couple of locals ended up barricaded inside their homes as county SWAT massed outside, one setting fire to his abode, others getting into the Joy Juice and embarking on questionable Thunder Runs up and down the 24/680 – engaging the coppers in those frustratingly cyclical arguments that never go anywhere but jail and always seem to end with “I want my lawyer here, NOW!”

We ‘Mericans can be a hard to handle bunch, just ask the Lim… er, British. We know because while we would have settled for a hotdog or two – maybe a cold beer – many of our countrymen were dodging secret service personnel dispatched to warn them of imminent immolation by lightning-strike, or enthusiastically applauding satisfying but completely bogus references to The Almighty and The Constitution.

Are we an ungovernable horde? Different tribes of the deeply unknowing bound by our commitment to Red, White, and Blue attire and love of assault weapons? Are we committed to a future together or a glorified and unattainable image of the past? We wish we knew, it would help us plan for the next centennial or so.

But, for a moment in our 250 years of existence, at least, many of us paused to celebrate what we have built while others chose a more subdued contemplation, assessing our progress as a nation and losing themselves in the reveries of celebrations past.